Chapter 11 #2
Charlotte had never been so thoroughly irritated by an entire room full of people in her life.
Every single member of society they encountered had smiled knowingly at her and the duke as though they were sharing some wonderfully romantic secret.
No matter how many times she clarified that she was merely employed as a companion to the dowager duchess, the ton simply nodded indulgently and behaved as though she and Victor were playacting for amusement.
It is maddening.
Even now, as they followed an usher toward the grand private box overlooking the stage, Charlotte could still hear Lady Pembroke’s delighted voice ringing in her ears.
Men always pretend reluctance at first.
“You appear nervous,” he observed lightly.
Charlotte huffed softly. “I am considering falsely fainting.”
Victor glanced sideways at her. “That may only strengthen the engagement rumors.”
Charlotte frowned at him before stepping inside after Elizabeth.
The private box was lavishly decorated with crimson velvet seating and gold trim gleaming beneath candlelight.
The stage below stretched magnificently across the opera house while the orchestra tuned their instruments beneath the rising murmur of the audience.
Elizabeth sighed happily as she settled into her chair. “Oh, how lovely.”
Charlotte smiled warmly despite her lingering frustration. “It is beautiful, Your Grace.”
Victor stepped closer behind her. “Allow me.”
Before she realized his intention, he reached gently for her hand as she moved toward her seat. Then, with infuriating smoothness, he lowered his mouth to her gloved knuckles in full view of his grandmother and lightly kissed them.
Charlotte nearly forgot how breathing worked. Victor’s lips lingered just long enough to feel deliberate.
Elizabeth beamed instantly. “Such a devoted couple.”
Charlotte shot Victor a look. The rogue had the audacity to appear innocent.
“You are enjoying this entirely too much,” she muttered under her breath as she sat.
Victor lowered himself into the seat beside her. “Smile, darling.”
Charlotte stiffened immediately. “Do not call me darling.”
His mouth twitched faintly. “Grandmother enjoys it.”
“But I do not,” she whispered.
“That is what makes it entertaining,” he whispered back.
Charlotte turned sharply toward the stage before she said something deeply improper.
The orchestra began playing moments later as the curtains slowly rose to reveal the performers beneath brilliant stage lights.
Around them, the opera house quieted into attentive silence while music swept richly through the air.
Besides Charlotte, Elizabeth remained delighted for approximately ten minutes.
Then she fell asleep entirely. Charlotte noticed the soft snore first. She looked over carefully.
The dowager duchess sat comfortably nestled into her chair with her head tilted slightly to one side, entirely unconscious before the first act properly unfolded.
Charlotte could not help smiling.
“She lasted longer than expected,” Victor murmured quietly beside her.
Charlotte lowered her voice. “Should we wake her?”
Victor glanced once toward his grandmother. “Absolutely not.”
Charlotte laughed softly before turning back toward the stage.
Unfortunately, this left her sitting far too aware of the duke beside her.
The darkness of the private box only worsened matters. Candlelight flickered across Victor’s sharp features while shadows deepened the green of his eyes whenever he glanced toward the stage. His broad shoulders nearly brushed hers with every slight movement.
Charlotte found herself noticing entirely too much. The roughness in his voice. The elegant strength of his hands. The way he lounged so carelessly while still somehow appearing dangerous. Quite without meaning to, she stole another glance toward him.
Then another. Then, unfortunately, a third.
Victor spoke without looking at her. “You may continue staring if you wish.”
Charlotte nearly choked. “I was not staring.”
“You were,” he said quietly.
“I was merely looking in your direction,” she said.
“How fortunate for me that my face occupied that direction,” he said.
Charlotte flushed hotly. “You are insufferably vain.”
Victor finally turned his head toward her slowly. “You keep proving me correct.”
“I do not,” she said.
“You looked three times in under a minute.” he smiled.
Charlotte stared forward rigidly. “I was observing the audience.”
Victor leaned slightly closer. “You may keep looking if you like. There is no harm in it.”
Charlotte refused to acknowledge the warmth curling low in her stomach. “Is this what you do with your women?”
Victor’s brow lifted slightly. “My women?”
“You know perfectly well what I mean. Like the one I caught you with that day in your forbidden room.”
She folded her arms defensively before continuing. “Do you bring them to the opera merely to seduce them in your private box?”
Victor became very still beside her. Then slowly, dangerously, he leaned closer. Charlotte’s pulse immediately quickened.
“Are you curious?” he murmured near her ear.
Her breath caught traitorously. “No.”
His voice dropped lower. “Liar.”
Charlotte turned her head sharply toward him. “I am not.”
“I shall show you then.” his voice was thick and low. That was all the warning she received. Victor’s fingers brushed lightly against her wrist first, warm even through her gloves. Then he leaned closer still until she could feel the heat of him beside her.
And then, his lips brushed softly against the curve of her neck.
Charlotte froze entirely.
Good heavens.
For one horrified moment, she forgot where they were altogether. Her eyes flew immediately toward Elizabeth. Still asleep.
Thank God.
Charlotte turned back toward Victor in outrage. “Your Grace…”
But the words failed entirely as he pressed another lingering kiss just beneath her ear.
Heat rushed through her so swiftly she nearly gasped aloud.
“You cannot possibly think this appropriate,” she whispered desperately.
Victor’s mouth brushed her skin again. Charlotte’s grip tightened helplessly against the armrest. They were in public. At the opera.
His grandmother sat scarcely three feet away, sleeping peacefully while the duke behaved like absolute ruin itself.
Charlotte tried to summon outrage properly. Instead, she felt dangerously warm all over.
“You are a rake,” she managed weakly.
Victor finally drew back just enough to look at her. Their faces remained so close she could feel his breath against her lips.
“Indeed,” he murmured.
Charlotte’s heart pounded violently now. She ought to move away. Instead, she remained perfectly still, staring directly into his eyes. Victor’s gaze flickered briefly downward toward her mouth. The gesture sent immediate panic through her.
Is he going to kiss me? Right here. In the opera box?
Charlotte inhaled sharply and leaned back at once. Victor smirked slightly.
Infuriating man.
“You should not ask questions if you dislike the answers,” he said quietly.
“I asked no such thing.”
“You asked what I do to women,” he said.
Charlotte glared at him despite the heat flooding her face. “I did not request a demonstration.”
Victor looked entirely unrepentant. “You seemed curious.”
“I was not curious,” she gasped.
“You sounded curious, then,” he smirked.
“I was insulting you,” she said, annoyed by his constant words.
“That is not how your voice sounded to me, at least,” he said.
Charlotte opened her mouth. Then closed it again. Because horrifyingly enough, she realized he might be right. Victor settled back into his chair, looking far too satisfied with himself.
Charlotte faced the stage once more in desperate need of composure, though she could scarcely focus upon the performance now. Her neck still tingled where he kissed her. Worse still, she could practically feel his amusement radiating beside her.
This man will absolutely destroy my sanity.
After several moments of silence, Victor leaned toward her once more. Charlotte tensed immediately. His mouth curved faintly near her ear. “Next time,” he murmured smoothly, “do not become so curious about what a rake does.”
Charlotte refused to look at him again for the remainder of the act.
Mostly because I fear I may kiss him if I look.